


red stains

by naktoms



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, also ! warnings for mild gore, and tears, like wonho being an assassin isnt that relevant to the plot not really but, this is... al ot of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naktoms/pseuds/naktoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonho is better at killing people than keeping them alive and Hyungwon wishes he was better at dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red stains

**Author's Note:**

> spit this idea at my homeboy alex a few days ago and finished it tonight! coolio  
> i'm rly proud of this honestly it's... def the longest hwh oneshot i've written  
> it didn't turn out 100% how i wanted it to and i also had to leave out some scenes i wanted to write BUTTTTTTTTTTT it's fine
> 
> as always!! kudos + comments are appreciated! i hope you enjoy!!

Wonho is trying to decide between leftover pizza and ordering Chinese takeout when he receives a phone call.

He abandons his dilemma for the moment, striding over to the counter where his phone sits and looking at the caller I.D.. The number is blocked, which can mean only one thing. Wonho clears his throat in preparation for using his fancy formal voice, then answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Wonho?”

Wonho leans up against the counter, prepared for a long negotiation about prices and services. “Yes, it is. How can I help you?”

“I was directed to you through your agency,” the voice, obviously masked with a voice changer to ensure security, says, words wavering slightly. “I was told you are reliable, and skilled, and I have a very large but secret undertaking for you if you are interested.”

Wonho nods slowly to himself, absently looking at the floor. “Certainly. What sort of undertaking is this?”

“The important sort. I cannot disclose such information over the phone, we will have to meet in person. Is that okay?”

“Depends on what you’re offering me in return.”

“Close to seventeen billion. American money, sure, but money all the same.”

Wonho chokes, then clears his throat to cover his blunder. He has to keep his facade up. “Ah, I see. I would definitely be interested in discussing this in person, then, how soon were you looking to meet?”

“Would this weekend be alright?”

“Certainly. If you’d like, you can email me details. I’m sure that was included with my contact information, right?”

“Indeed. Thank you for your consideration, Wonho.”

The client hangs up and Wonho takes a deep breath, setting his phone down on the counter. Then, he says to himself, “Holy _shit_.”

 

The client arranges for them to meet at their private house. The client turns out to be an aging man, sharply dressed and with an even expression. Wonho tries his hardest to match the other man’s calmness, sitting down primly on the couch opposite the client.

“Nice house,” Wonho remarks, for the purpose of opening up conversation. The man fixes him with a look. “Right. We’re not here for small talk.”

“Indeed, we are not.” Wonho notices then that the man’s Korean is rather accented, maybe a give-away that he is foreign. Explains why Wonho’s payment will be given in USD, as well. “Before we begin, I would like to ensure that you realize the services you provide to me, to _us_ , will mean life or death for not only us, but for many other people. I also want you to be aware that if you succeed in your given mission, your reward will increase in many ways. You will be doing us a great service.”

Wonho thinks up some quip about how his usual line of work means life or death for many people anyway, but he lets it die. “I understand, yes. Who exactly is ‘us’, though?”

“The United States government, more specifically the FBI.”

Wonho chokes, then splutters. There’s not much he can do to cover up his blunder this go around. “Are you _kidding me_?” He finally manages. “The FBI? Are you aware of what I do for a living?”

“Perhaps you may also need to know that you are far from our first choice,” the man cuts in before Wonho can blubber any longer. “We have run out of options. Your agency is trusted, secure, and we would like to overlook your actions that run into illegal territory for our own benefit. Is that clear?”

Wonho huffs, reminding himself of a little child. The man raises an eyebrow. “Okay, sure. What is my given mission, then?”

“You are to protect the last remaining survivor of the Chae family, a family that has been targeted for upwards of six years due to their involvement in the now-infamous Park case. You remember that, correct?”

Wonho does remember the Park case, a five-week event that caused the downfall of one of the more influential mafia subsects in South Korea. The head of the Chae family played the largest part in the destruction of the Park family, and in addition took the fortune left over. Wonho can understand why they’ve been targeted.

The man takes Wonho’s relative silence as acknowledgement. “The FBI has been sheltering them for four years. Their heavy involvement with the criminal underground means that they have much knowledge about other subsects we have been looking to eliminate for quite a long time. It is imperative that we keep them alive. Or… it was.”

“What happened?”

“The current group of agents that we had protecting the family at large were certainly not our worst agents, but they failed their duty. That is why there is only one left, the son. All the others were killed two weeks ago, by those suspected to have been related to the Park family.”

Wonho sucks in a breath. “That’s rough. So, you’re asking me to babysit the Chaes’ kid?”

“Simply put, yes. If you agree, we will arrange for him to be flown to South Korea with what few agents we can still trust. He is not safe no matter where he goes, so he might as well be in his home country.” The man sighs, closing his eyes. “He is an unfortunate boy, indeed.”

“Sounds like it.” Wonho stretches, linking his hands together and resting them on top of his head. “Sure, I’ll do it.”

The man smiles then. “Thank you, Wonho. As I told you, your reward will increase if you are able to keep him safe.”

Wonho nods. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Not at the moment. More will be discussed once you two become acquainted, and we will notify your agency once he has arrived so you can arrange a meeting.”

“Alright, then.” Wonho rises from the couch, offering his hand once the man has risen as well, which he shakes. “It was nice meeting you, I hope everything goes well for us both.”  
“Me, as well. Good luck.”

So, Wonho returns home to write down the details, as he always does. Most of his missions are subtitled with things like “AKA, Kill This Fucking CEO” or “AKA, The One Time I Got My Ass Beat In Front Of A Pretty GIrl”, but this one gets a subtitle of “AKA, What The Fuck Did I Just Agree To”.

_God_ , Wonho thinks to himself once he’s finished filling the page with information. _I’m good at killing people, not at keeping them alive, what the fuck do they want from me._

 

“Merry Christmas!” Minhyuk cries when Wonho strides into the agency headquarters. “The FBI brought you a new boyfriend.”

“What.” Wonho deadpans, looking into Minhyuk’s bright face. Minhyuk laughs.

“Your, uh, client or whatever arrived this morning, have you not checked your texts? He’s real pretty, hope you’re ready to fall in love!” Minhyuk sing-songs the last bit and Wonho rolls his eyes.

“You’re too much. Don’t you have some paperwork to be filing or something like that?”

“Sure, but I’d rather harass you. Or, I guess I should probably let you go meet your new boyfriend.” Minhyuk waves as Wonho brushes past him, and Wonho can’t help but laugh when Minhyuk proudly proclaims that “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him! Beggars can’t be choosers!”

Wonho does feel nervous, however, not because of the new knowledge that the Chae kid is gorgeous but because he’s worried that the Chae kid is going to be a massive shitbag. Despite it, he does stop in front of a window to check his reflection, smoothing his hair down and wiping a stray smudge of makeup. He has to look so good that it is intimidating, at all times.

He is informed by his supervisor, Kihyun, that the Chae kid has been put in the meeting room, which was once used for negotiations but now serves as the break room that has nothing to offer but coffee. Wonho stops to straighten his leather jacket lapels before he enters the room.

And there he is. Wonho had not seen his face before out of concern for privacy, because while Wonho’s email is as heavily protected as the agency can get it, you never know. But, this kid looks like an absolute angel, with soft cheeks and full lips turned downwards into a pouty expression. There are dark circles under his eyes and a trembling in his hands, however, belying what his past few weeks have been like.

Wonho feels almost like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “Hey,” Wonho says amicably. “My name is Wonho.”

“I know what your name is,” he replies, not looking up from his phone screen. “Mine’s Hyungwon. I guess they didn’t tell you that.”

Hyungwon’s words are very clipped. It’s apparent that he doesn’t want to be here, and definitely doesn’t want to be talking to Wonho. Rather than hurt Wonho in any way, it only serves to make the air between them somewhat awkward.

Wonho sits beside Hyungwon on the couch, leaving a cushion between them so Hyungwon has a proper amount of space. “Uh, so. How are you?”

“Jetlagged as all fuck,” Hyungwon says, still not looking up from his phone, scrolling aimlessly. “My everything hurts. I would rather be dead. How about you?”

Wonho initially isn’t sure how to respond. Watching Hyungwon’s hands, he notices cuts and bruises on his fingers and feels a rush of- well, what, he’s not sure. But whatever it is, it leads him to blurt, “I’ll keep you safe.”

Hyungwon looks over at Wonho, then bursts into laughter that seems equal parts genuine and bitter. “That’s what the last five of them claimed, too. You’re not special, dude.”

Wonho’s face flares with embarrassment, but he’s determined to be graceful even in failure. “Right. Well, we have to at least not hate each other, okay?”

Hyungwon has something of an amused smile on his face, and it’s certainly a lot better than the melancholy pout. “Sure.”

Wonho struggles for something else to say before he notices a wet spot growing on the sleeve of Hyungwon’s shirt. “Are you alright?” He asks, gesturing vaguely to the spot.

“Ah, shit,” Hyungwon says, covering the spot with his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine, but it’s just- sometimes it leaks through the bandage, you know.”

Wonho is silent, waiting for clarification. He prompts it with a quiet, “You know, if I wasn’t even told your name…”

“Right, right!” Hyungwon replies, grabbing the end of his sleeve with his fingers and pulling his arm out. He hikes the shirt up over his shoulder and, lo, his left arm and side are covered with thick bandages, random spots of dark red and liquid with a sickly green tinge to it scattered throughout.

“Oh,” Wonho says lamely, just barely stopping himself from reaching out to touch it on reflex. “Is that from the, the thing?”

“You can say it, you don’t have to tiptoe around it.” Hyungwon says, sliding his arm back into the sleeve and wincing, presumably when a wound gets rubbed the wrong way. “It’s a lot of burns. Did they really not tell you _anything_?”

“Just the core part.” Wonho says. “I- did they really-?”

“You know what I think is the shittiest thing? Or, well, two of the shittiest things, about this whole thing.” Hyungwon relocates the bleeding wound and clamps his hand over it once more. “First of all, I’m not dead. And second of all, they didn’t just kill my fucking family, we were in a public place. People who had no idea who we even were got killed because of us. That’s pretty fucking shitty.”

Wonho isn’t sure what to say, so he averts his attention to Hyungwon’s arm. “You- You should get that changed soon.”

Hyungwon smiles, taking his hand away and wiping the residue off on his pants leg. It leaves smears of red on the gray material. “I suppose so. You’re not real good at this people thing, are you?”

“I-”

“It’s fine, I’m not either.” Hyungwon stands, turning to face Wonho. “Your supervisor or whatever told me to come tell him when we were done. Are we?”

Wonho would rather keep talking to Hyungwon, but he remembers that, if all goes as planned, he’ll be spending a very, very long time with Hyungwon from now on. So, instead, he rises from the couch as well and says, “I guess. Do you know where his office is?”

“Yeah, but you can walk with me if you want.”

Wonho can’t help but smile, and his face warms when Hyungwon smiles back.

 

Wonho is more than a little sad about having to leave his pretty suburban duplex behind. Of course, they can’t stay there, for obvious security reasons, but Wonho’s more so upset by the fact that he won’t be able to return; the agency never reuses homes, also for obvious security reasons.

The house chosen for them by the agency is arguably better than Wonho’s duplex, but he’s still mad about it. Hyungwon, on the other hand, seems entirely enthralled by the high ceilings and polished floors, running his hand reverently along the banister as Wonho begins the long process of hauling their things inside.

“Do you like it that much?” Wonho calls up, more than a little sore that Hyungwon isn’t helping him.

“I’ve been living in shitty apartments for four years, dude!” Hyungwon yells back.

Right. “‘Kay, but you’re putting up your own shit!”

Hyungwon laughs in response, and it echoes pleasantly through the house. Wonho smiles.

They pick rooms on the same floor for, you know, those obvious security purposes. Wonho finds himself trailing after Hyungwon, watching as he darts around the room putting clothes away and setting things out. Wonho’s eyes fall on a delicate glass figurine of a rose, lightly stained red towards the middle.

Hyungwon catches him looking and brings it closer. “Be careful with it. This was my mom’s, they, uh- they let me take what I wanted from their stuff. I… didn’t keep much.”

Wonho holds it gently in his hands, turning it so the sunlight shines off of it. He hands it back, thinking briefly about taking one of Hyungwon’s hands in his. “It’s beautiful,” Wonho remarks quietly, and Hyungwon smiles, nodding.

“Yeah. Come here, I’ll show you some more stuff.”

There are picture frames appearing from the box sitting at Hyungwon’s feet, filled with pictures of Hyungwon’s family, a house, a sweet-looking dog. Hyungwon introduces his family members to Wonho, tapping the glass gently with his fingertip, then explains that the house was where they lived before the Park incident, and that the dog was also something lost to the event.

Wonho is silent as Hyungwon speaks, watching Hyungwon carefully arrange the frames and blow dust off of them. When one of Hyungwon’s hands comes to rest on the dresser, Wonho covers it with his own.

Hyungwon looks at Wonho with wide eyes, and the fact that there are tears gathering at the corners of his eyes pushes Wonho to say, resolutely, “I’m not kidding. I’m going to keep you safe.”

It seems like Hyungwon gets very close to crumbling, bottom lip trembling, but he brings a hand to his face to wipe his tears away before they can fall. “Okay,” Hyungwon replies quietly, nodding slightly. “Okay. I- I believe you.”

Wonho slowly curls his fingers around Hyungwon’s hand, and is more than a little surprised when Hyungwon does the same. “I- I guess I should probably get started on my room,” Wonho says, embarrassment catching up with him.

Hyungwon nods in agreement. “Yeah, probably. Good luck with that.”

Wonho almost awkwardly ducks out of the room, shuffling down the hall to a guest bedroom roughly the same size. Wonho believes it’s meant to be used as an office or storage room or something, but damn if he’s not sleeping in it.

Later, they converge in the kitchen for some dinner Wonho scraped together from the things he brought from his old house. Wonho eyes the stains in Hyungwon’s shirt from leaking wounds and asks, “Have you been bandaging yourself?”

“Yeah, mostly.” Hyungwon says, shrugging as he stabs a slice of pork with his fork. “I just… I didn’t like anyone at the FBI, they didn’t like me either. I get the feeling they don’t really like anyone they have to look after. So I’d rather just do it myself than bother someone else.”

“No offense, but I get the feeling you haven’t exactly been doing the best job,” Wonho says with a smile, forking some carrots into his mouth. “Let me do it later? I promise I’m good at it.”

“I suppose so. What do you normally do?”

“Uh, kill people. What else?”

Hyungwon snorts, but he sees that Wonho isn’t particularly laughing and does something of a double take. “Really? You’re like, straight up an assassin? I thought they were kidding when they told me that.”

“No kidding here. I’ve never been hired to keep someone alive, but I’ve kept my stupid partners from getting killed in the past so I must be pretty good at it.”

Hyungwon smiles at that, pushing his plate away. “I feel kinda sick. A lot’s happened today.”

Wonho nods. “That’s fine. No insult to my cooking, I’m sure.”

Hyungwon’s smile morphs into a grin, face crinkling up cutely. “Definitely not. Feel free to look at my gross wounds when you’re ready.”

“Let’s do it now, why the hell not.” Wonho stands from his chair, taking a couple more bites of pork and vegetables before he strides down the hall to the bathroom and digs through the unpacked supplies still sitting in the floor, grabbing things necessary to properly bandage a burn.

“I hope you feel lucky,” Wonho says as he re-enters the room, “this is my last roll of gauze.”

“Oh, goody,” Hyungwon says sarcastically, rising to follow Wonho to the living room. “Who gave us all this furniture, by the way?”

“Our darling supervisor Kihyun pulled some strings, like he always does. Most of it was donated and refurbished.” Wonho slides onto the couch, smiling at Hyungwon when he sits down beside him. “Only our third day of knowing each other and I’m gonna see you without your shirt on, this is a record for me.”

Hyungwon snorts, pulling his shirt over his head. “I have to warn you, this shit is like, really really gross.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen grosser.”

“No, like, super gross.”

Wonho shrugs and begins carefully tearing the soft gauze away, grimacing when his fingers brush a very wet spot. As the wounds slowly begin appearing, Wonho realizes indeed, this is super gross. The burns are almost entirely over Hyungwon’s left arm and creeping up his shoulders, along with a large splotch on his side and a streak of raw skin stretching out over his stomach.

“Really gross, huh.” Wonho says plainly, balling the soiled gauze up and shuffling off to throw it away and wash his hands, coming back to see Hyungwon picking at flaking skin. “Hey, no, stop. Stop doing that.”

Hyungwon huffs, but winces when Wonho gently rests the back of his hand across one of the healed areas.

“It’s still warm,” Wonho remarks, gently rubbing his thumb over a bump of skin. “And a little bruised. How bad were the burns?”

“Third degree here,” Hyungwon says, pointing at the areas on his arm and side that are still mostly raw and bleeding. “Second degree everywhere else. They’ve almost healed.”

Wonho hums, looking over the wounds carefully. “I think I’ll let the mostly healed areas breathe, then.”

“Sounds good to me, man.”

Hyungwon ends up with his head resting against the back of the couch, eyes half closed. He looks as delicate as the glass rose in his bedroom.

“How old were you when it happened, Hyungwon?” Wonho asks quietly while he’s bandaging his wounds.

“Fifteen,” Hyungwon replies quietly, looking at Wonho as he stands, having finished. “But, hey. At least my face is still pretty, right?”

Wonho smiles. “Right. Vitamin E oil will help with the scars after it’s healed. Start putting lotion on the flaky places, okay?”

Hyungwon nods. “Alright. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Wonho heads off to put the supplies back up, thinking briefly about going ahead and putting the things in the box away before shrugging and heading back to the living room. He finds Hyungwon in the same position as before, albeit with his shirt on now, looking half-asleep.

Wonho pokes Hyungwon’s cheek and grins when Hyungwon blinks up at him. “Why don’t you go to sleep?” Wonho asks.

“Good point,” Hyungwon groans, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands and hauling himself to his feet. “Night, then, I guess.”

“Good night, sleep well. Try not to worry too much, okay?”

Hyungwon nods. “Okay.”

 

Wonho finds himself to be pretty alright at this whole protection thing. Certainly, he's saved Hyunwoo's ass more times than he can count, and kept Jooheon from getting his head blasted off at least twice over now, but this is different. Wonho somehow feels so helpless; all he can do is keep his arm around Hyungwon's waist and keep a sharp eye out for anyone who may recognize Hyungwon.

Thankfully, the chore of keeping it a secret that the FBI moved Hyungwon back to Korea is a success. It is but a small mercy in the end, as Wonho tries to protect Hyungwon even from curious gazes and harmless bumps. Maybe Wonho is being overbearing, overreactive, over-something. Maybe he needs to lighten up, maybe they'll go this whole time without a single person trying to harm Hyungwon in any way. Maybe Wonho is stupid.

"I'm sorry," Wonho says one day while they're putting away groceries after a successful, safe shopping trip.

"For what?" Hyungwon asks, searching for the cabinet that the flour goes in.

"Top one," Wonho supplies. "And, I'm sorry if I'm seeming like... too much, maybe."

Hyungwon turns to face Wonho once he's put the flour in the top cabinet. "What do you mean?"

"I think I'm scared," Wonho continues, not exactly answering Hyungwon's question. "I'm scared of failing, I'm- I don't want you to get hurt."

A small smile comes to Hyungwon's face, and he continues unbagging groceries and setting them on the counter for further organization. "It doesn't bother me. It's no different from what treatment I got in the States, just you're more... I don't know."

Wonho strides over to stand beside Hyungwon, smiling up at him. "More what?"

Hyungwon glances at him, then grins. "More annoying."

"Aw, how mean."

Hyungwon hands Wonho cheese and the half-gallon of milk. "Make yourself useful and put that away, will you?"

"Fine, meanie." Wonho says, sticking his tongue out and going to put that and the rest of the refrigerated food away.

"Cuter," Hyungwon says after a long few minutes of silence. "You're cuter, and kinder. Really, it doesn't bother me."

Wonho feels his cheeks warm. "Thank you," he replies eventually, but it's so quiet that the only one there to hear it is the cheese slices.

 

The FBI agent handling Hyungwon's case calls a couple days later while Wonho is rubbing lotion into Hyungwon's skin, careful around the still-raw wounds. Wonho can hear his cheery voice stumbling over Korean words even from where he sits, and it's clear from Hyungwon's eye rolls that he doesn't want to be talking to this dude.

Wonho takes his time, thumbs rubbing circles into Hyungwon's bumpy skin. He doesn't exactly listen to the conversation, but he does notice Hyungwon digging his thumbnail into the side of his fingers. Wonho gently closes his fingers around Hyungwon's hand.

"I'm fine," Hyungwon says then, and Wonho can't tell if he's speaking to him or the dearest Agent Claire on the other end of the line. "Everything is fine."

Wonho squeezes his hand slightly nonetheless.

The phone call only lasts a few minutes, but Hyungwon still seems very rattled following it. Wonho pulls Hyungwon's sleeve down and then hesitantly presses his face into Hyungwon's shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly.

Hyungwon takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he speaks. "Claire gets me so- I don't know. I hate every agent that's ever worked on my case, they're all- they act like they know me. Claire keeps talking about wanting to get me to a therapist and I'm just... god. Why would I bother telling a bunch of strangers my problems when all they're going to tell me is some shit they don't even believe?"

"You can tell me," Wonho offers.

Hyungwon rubs the back of his free hand over his eyes. "It's... nothing. I wish I'd just died with my family, it's so... people only want to keep me alive so they can use me. Even people from the Park family just want me for that. I wish I wasn't still running. I wish I wasn’t such a burden."

Wonho doesn't quite know what to say, so he opts for staying silent and running his fingertips along the back of Hyungwon's hand. Hyungwon rests his head against Wonho's. Wonho eventually settles on a soft, "I'm sorry."

"I am too," Hyungwon replies. He reaches over his lap to cover Wonho's hand with his, turning his other palm upwards so he can squeeze Wonho's hand tight. "I'm so sorry."

 

Hyungwon wants to go to the park. They don’t go many places that aren’t required, mostly just to the agency building or the grocery, so Wonho figures that it’ll be fine. And that’s when it happens.

There is a mighty cry of Hyungwon’s name that has geese fleeing and small children whipping around to look, and then Wonho sees the man sprinting across the mulchy area of the playground. There is metal shining in his hand.

This is Wonho’s purpose, to keep Hyungwon safe, and he knows he is more than capable but his heart still leaps into his throat. He places himself between the attacker and Hyungwon so it is his arm that gets sliced open rather than Hyungwon’s, then quickly grabs the man’s wrists and twists them both so he drops the knife with a hiss of pain.

There are some very alarmed mothers herding their children away and at least two people on their phones, presumably to call the police. Wonho shoves the man away and fixes him with a hard gaze when he stumbles backwards and falls on his ass.

“I’d suggest you leave if you don’t want to end up in jail like the rest of your cohorts,” Wonho hisses. The man scrambles to his feet and runs away, and Wonho watches as some men take it upon themselves to chase after the criminal so he can be properly arrested. Wonho takes a deep breath to steady himself, turning quickly to make sure Hyungwon is still okay.

Yes, Hyungwon is still standing a foot or so behind Wonho, and he looks equal parts terrified and heartbroken. Wonho steps closer to him, putting a gentle hand on his upper arm. “Are you okay?” Wonho asks softly.

Hyungwon bites his bottom lip, and it looks like he’s about to cry. “I- shouldn’t I be asking you that, let me see…”

Wonho raises his arm for examination and Hyungwon carefully parts the torn fabric of Wonho’s clothes to get a better look. Tears are sticking to Hyungwon’s eyelashes and Wonho reaches up to wipe them away.

“I’m okay,” Wonho says. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Hyungwon nods, and this time he is the first one to put his arm around Wonho, protective. Once they’re in the car, he whispers, “I’m sorry. I just- I just wanted to go somewhere and feel normal, and it just- I’m sorry.”

Wonho lays his hand on Hyungwon’s knee, patting it lightly. “It’s okay. Things like this happen. We’re okay.”

Despite his words, Wonho doesn’t feel entirely okay until they’re home. It’s such a strange concept, seeing that he’s been stabbed in the stomach and shot through the foot and bumped around in all sorts of ways before, but this time is so _different_. This time he’s wondering, questioning himself, hoping to God that he is as capable as he thinks he is.

Hyungwon insists on bandaging Wonho’s arm and Wonho lets him, even though Hyungwon has proven he’s horrible at bandaging. Wonho thinks, maybe, he understands a little more of what Hyungwon said a few days prior, about wanting to die. He feels like a burden because people get hurt because of him, both people he’s known and complete strangers have died because of him.

Wonho cups Hyungwon’s face in his hands once Hyungwon is finished. “You’re not a burden,” Wonho says quietly, but with all the intensity he can muster. He repeats it again and tears well up in Hyungwon’s eyes, falling onto Wonho’s thumbs.

Wonho does not hesitate, kissing beneath Hyungwon’s eyes and across his cheeks to the tip of his nose and then kissing him proper. “I don’t want you to feel like that anymore,” Wonho whispers. “You’re worth protecting.”

Hyungwon chokes back a sob, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “You’re such an ass,” he complains. “I don’t like crying, Wonho.”

Wonho doesn’t respond, simply pulls Hyungwon closer and puts his arms loosely around his waist. Hyungwon rests his head on Wonho’s shoulder and Wonho thinks that, yes, it was worth it.

 

Wonho has always been a light sleeper, so of course he wakes when his bedroom door creaks open.

“It’s just me,” comes Hyungwon’s voice, quiet. “I didn’t know what else to do, I- I can’t sleep after today.”

Wonho pauses to drag a hand over his face to shake some of the sleepiness off before he scoots over so his back bumps the wall. “Come on.”

Hyungwon obliges, crawling into the vacated space and, after a moment’s hesitance, winding an arm around Wonho’s waist. He tucks his face into Wonho’s neck and Wonho notices that his cheeks are wet.

Wonho is still horribly drowsy, but he runs his fingers through Hyungwon’s hair, pressing his lips against Hyungwon’s forehead just enough for it to be a kiss. “You’re alright,” Wonho whispers. As he dozes off once more, he adds, “You’re safe.”

In the morning, Hyungwon has drooled all over Wonho’s shirt and looks like an absolute mess. Wonho climbs over him in order to go to the bathroom and, as he passes by the bed, he stops to kiss Hyungwon’s temple with very little thought given.

“Morning,” Wonho says when Hyungwon rouses slightly. “Did you sleep well?”

Hyungwon groans in response and Wonho smiles, patting his shoulder lightly and turning to leave. Hyungwon gets out of bed sooner than usual, shuffling in while Wonho’s still waiting for the coffee to brew.

Hyungwon sits at the table and waits until he’s been presented with a cup of coffee before he speaks. “I don’t want to go anywhere today, is that alright?”

“Of course,” Wonho says easily, leaning against the table. “What do you want to do, then?”

“I want to talk. About things that don’t make me feel like shit,” Hyungwon adds with a wry smile.

“We could watch something. Minhyuk has been trying for ages to get me to watch this one drama, but I never have. Sounds good, right?”

Hyungwon brings his mug to his lips, nodding slowly before he takes a drink. “You know, you haven’t had to like, protect me from danger or anything yet, but you’re really good at this. I wanted to find some way to die before we even got settled but…” Hyungwon laughs, setting his mug back down. “I was kind of excited about living with you. You’re… so sweet. You don’t realize how much you’ve helped.”

Wonho’s cheeks warm and he smiles to himself. “I’m glad I have. I hope I can… help more in the future.”

They fall into a pleasant silence and Wonho thinks maybe he should change the subtitle in his mission log to something else, something more pleasant, something that reflects this warm feeling in his chest that makes him feel like jelly.

_AKA, I Don’t Know What I’d Do If I Failed. AKA, I’m Living With Sunshine. AKA, I Can’t Believe I’m Falling In Love With A Mission._

 


End file.
